Page 94 of Sinful Crimes for the Artistically Inclined
“More,” said Joe, reaching down to pull his ass cheeks wide. “Spread your arms.”
Percy stretched out long, gripping the piano tight from either side. He was completely splayed out, the chandelier light dappling over his back, his taut muscles thick with effort and pleasure. And he was the most glorious sight Joe had ever seen.
“I love you so much,” Joe exhaled, burying himself in Percy again. Percy’s spine arched in delicious compliance, and Joe slowed the movement as he pulled back, to enjoy the delight to its full extent. “But you’re such an asshole sometimes.”
“Fuck you, darling.”
Joe slammed hard into Percy, and he let out another groan of pleasure, trying very hard not to laugh. But Joe kept going over and over, slowly, slowly moving back until Percy was desperate for him, then forcing himself back in, working aperfect rhythm, until those tight muscles of Percy’s constricted, until his breath hitched, until Joe reached around and finally, took his dick in hand.
It was, perhaps, the one time Joe could have made Percy do absolutely anything without a word of protest. Percy was a slave to pleasure, and therefore, he was a slave to Joe. Joe wrapped a hand around the back of Percy’s neck, worked his cock with the rhythm of his thrusts, slow and deep. Percy held the piano with white knuckles, aware even in his ecstasy that he was all beauty, all baroque spectacle for Joe, such as Joe would never get with another lover. Not like Percy could give him. Percy jealously listened for the shuddering of Joe’s breath, sought the determination in his hands to work Percy at every possible point of pleasure, to be the perfect, incomparable lover he already was.
“I love you, Joe,” Percy whispered, and just like that he forced the final, deep, convulsive thrust, that sank into him as Joe grasped Percy’s dick tight, setting off a chain reaction that saw Percy push back against Joe’s exploding dick, as he slammed a steadying hand down on the piano, his own appallingly exquisite orgasm taking him over while a cascade of cum decorated Percy’s chest, his abs, the entire side of the grand piano, and good portion of the wooden floorboards beneath.
Joe fell down on Percy’s back, still shaking as they both rode out the waves of pleasure that racked their bodies, until Joe, his forehead damp with the heat of the night, and deeply content against Percy’s muscles, felt the deep rumble of a laugh from the man he adored.
Percy could feel Joe’s gorgeous smile against his back, and would have been quite content to stay there all night, had he not needed quite so badly to kiss Joe’s beautiful lips. Those lips kissed their way up Percy’s spine, across his shoulder, and onto his cheek.
“I swear that was your fault, somehow,” said Joe. He pulled out and Percy was up like a shot, bringing Joe against him, holding him tight, smothering him with kisses.
“Look at this mess,” Joe all but whined, content as he was.
Cum dripped from the piano, lube slid down the wall, the telephone lay in pieces, and both were quietly relieved they hadn’t knocked over a candelabra in the process.
It may have taken a great deal of convincing, but before Joe knew it, he found himself in the hot water of a marble bathtub, surrounded by more bubbles than should be possible, a glass of icy champagne in hand, awaiting the man of his dreams, who had insisted Joe let him take care of everything.
It was easily, already, the best holiday Joe had ever had.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
SEXY JESUS
“Even your feet are beautiful,” Percy marvelled.
Joe’s foot rested on Percy’s raised knee, his leg stretched out across the bath, toes just above the waterline. Percy gently pushed and pulled them here and there, running his index finger down the inside, tracing the shape, until he relented, bringing Joe’s foot to his chest. “I need it right here.” With one hand, he dripped warm water onto the toes he held close, with the other he reached for his champagne glass.
It was perfection. Percy’s beautiful form, the ridiculous opulence of the room and the enormous tub that somehow fit them both comfortably, Percy’s never-quite-satisfied gaze drinking in every inch of Joe.
“If you’d told me a month ago we’d be here, together, I never would have believed it,” Joe said.
Another handful of water bathed Joe’s toes. “A month ago? Is that when you finally fell for me?”
Joe blushed, and Percy loved every second of it. “No. It was before that.”
“When was it exactly?” He pulled the foot a little higher, resting his cheek against the toes, rapt attention on Joe.
“I liked you so much,” said Joe. “Straight away. That first day we met. I thought you were so, so beautiful.”
“But I was a dick,” Percy suggested.
“You were such a dick,” Joe confirmed. They both laughed, and Joe sipped his champagne. “But I still thought about you. A lot. But then everything got so complicated. I wondered how you were doing the whole time I was away. I wondered if I’d ever see you again. And then the exorcism happened.”
“Mmm.” Percy’s face clouded over. It was an awful time. Touch and go for three full, sleepless days and nights, and it wasn’t something Percy wanted to revisit, either in reality or conversation.
Joe could see as much, but he still said, “You were so caring. The way you looked at Eve, how you took care of him. The little things you did for everyone. But… It wasn’t until afterwards, after it was all over and… What you did for them…”
Percy’s eyes turned hard at the memory, staring into the water, unseeing, but the next words drew his dark interest back.
“That way you looked at Anna.” Their eyes met across the bath, a fast, suffocating silence between them, until Joe blurted out, “I wanted you to look at me like that. The way you looked at her. I wanted you to do things for me like that. I wanted you to sacrifice everything for me, like you did for her.”
